


Annoying

by everythingsace



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic, Tony Stark Needs Sleep, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, grumpy tony, i adore the friendship between tony and peter, peter is making sure tony isn't being stupid, steve and bucky are in it briefly, tony has a cold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingsace/pseuds/everythingsace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought about replying, yes, but he couldn’t think of any sarcastic remarks and his throat hurt. Colds were annoying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Annoying

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I currently have a cold and decided I will make Tony suffer with me. But don't worry, he doesn't suffer much. He's just adorably sneezy. Might be part of a series in the future?

“Tony, you need to get some rest.”

Tony startled, the screwdriver in his hand falling, hitting the floor with a loud noise that made his head hurt. Well, more than it already was. Headaches were annoying.

Slowly turning in his seat, Tony briefly made eye contact with Steve. He quickly turned back around, hopping off the lab stool for a moment to reclaim the screwdriver. He scrambled back to his seat and said nothing. He thought about replying, yes, but he couldn’t think of any sarcastic remarks and his throat hurt. Colds were annoying.

“Tony,” Steve repeated, and Tony didn’t dignify him with a look that time. He simply continued messing with the camera in his hand, something Peter had asked for. Well, not necessarily  _ asked  _ for, but when Tony heard that the kid had decided to take on a journalism class on top of all his AP classes, he was going to make sure he’d have the best tech in the class. 

“Stark, come on. FRIDAY says you haven’t slept in two days.” Tony rolled his eyes at the voice of the former assassin.

“Plus we haven’t seen you in three,” Steve added, and Tony held back a groan, trying to focus on his work. Every word they said added to the headache and he just wanted to make Parker a damn camera. At another, “Tony,” the genius simply continued to ignore them and set down the screwdriver and picked up the lens spanner wrench. 

“We’ll call Rhodey,” Bucky warned. Super-soldiers were annoying.

Tony then groaned and spun around to glare at them. “I’m fine. And that’s playing dirty, don’t bother him. He’s busy.” Rhodey had gotten back the full use of his legs- well, legs in general, because they were prosthetics. But Tony had fixed them up and connect them up so Rhodey could actually feel through them, much like Bucky’s arm. Point was, Rhodey was back to his military duties, and he didn’t have the time to come to Manhattan just to make sure that Tony wasn’t a wreck. (Besides, it was safe to assume he usually was.)

Both pairs of eyes narrowed, and Tony felt like he was being scrutinized. “What?” he asked, letting his eyes drop back down to the camera. He wiped his nose, which was beginning to drip, across his sleeve.  _ God,  _ colds were annoying.

“Tony, are you sick?” Steve asked, and the two super-soldiers were soon stood opposite his workstation, and he rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he said, but his nasally voice said differently. “I’m just trying to make Parker a camera, ‘kay? Come on, go to your super-soldier-boyfriend duties or whatever. Just don’t have sex in my living room, okay? That was really unnecessary.”

Steve instantly blushed and stuttered, but unfortunately, Bucky wasn’t having any of it. “Stark, get some sleep. You can’t work through a cold. Or flu- do you have the flu?”

Once again, Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m  _ fine. _ And clearly, you don’t know me, Barnes. I have worked through plenty of sickness in my day, you know, or have you forgotten about the fact I had palladium in my chest for a while?” he said, and he knew he shouldn’t have mentioned the palladium poisoning, but his lack of filter was even more lacking as his head pounded. Wishing he didn’t have to, he wiped his nose again.

Steve was going back to his normal color and he seemed to returning to his regular, normal, Captain-America self, but at the mention of the poisoning, his face turned pale. “Tony, that really doesn’t help,” he said, his voice soft. “That only proves our point. You didn’t tell anyone when you were dying, and you’re even less likely to tell someone you’re sick.” He glanced over at Bucky, then back at the genius. “We’ll be right back with medicine, tissues, and soup. Okay?”

Tony simply glared and crossed his arms petulantly while the two left the room. Yeah, super-soldiers were definitely annoying.

He returned to the camera and picked up the slotted screwdriver. He pulled over a magnifier and squinted as he worked, determined to make this the best damn camera Parker’s teacher had ever seen. (She’d ask, “My, Peter, what kind of brilliant camera is this?” and Peter will say, “Well, Mrs. Newspaper-Teacher, the brilliant and genius Tony Stark created it for me, and it’s one of a kind. You wish you had a camera like this.” Probably. Tony was just guessing.) He’d make the picture absolutely incredible, and he’d make sure the resolution was better than the damn Hubble Space Telescope.

He spun in his chair briefly to sneeze once, twice,  _ six _ times. Making a disgusted  _ ugh _ sound, Tony wiped his nose on his sleeve once again and sniffled. He turned back around in his chair and returned to the work, only to get the tickling sensation in his nose again. He was mid-groan when another sneeze erupted, and he barely spun in time to avoid spraying the camera with phlegm. Again, he sniffled and rubbed his nose, before returning to his work. He tried to cough to maybe loosen up the disgusting drainage, but the mucus didn’t budge, and the cough simply made his headache worsen. He finally pushed aside the camera and propped his elbows on his station, beginning to massage his temples. The headache had been prominent for the past twenty-one hours and it’d barely relented as the day went on, fading away only to come pounding back an hour later.

Hearing the doors slide open behind him, Tony returned to his work, trying to show no sign of feeling ill. He dragged the camera back and began poking again. “I don’t need coddling,” he said, and he would personally deny that there was a childishly stubborn tone in his voice.

But the voice that replied was distinctively not Steve’s nor Bucky’s.

“I wasn’t planning on coddling you?” the confused voice of Peter Parker said, and Tony sighed, massaging his knuckles into the side of his head. Peter quickly sat opposite him, looking at Tony curiously before grimacing. “Oh, Mr. Stark, you don’t look too good.”

Tony tried his best to glare at the kid. “Rude,” he said, and he wasn’t too surprised to see Peter roll his eyes.

“I knew something was up when I saw Captain Rogers and his boyfriend rushing around the kitchen. Do they not realize that there’s mix for that, and they don’t need to make chicken noodle soup from scratch? Besides, they had canned soup back then, didn’t they? Why do they think they need to make it from scratch? That’s so much work, and the mix or the can is so much faster. And why-”

“Kid,” Tony interrupted, holding his hand out and setting down the camera. “Not that you don’t make very valid points, which you do, but I do sort of have a headache, and the rambling’s not really helping.”

Peter visibly deflated, but he nodded, seeming to understand. “Yeah, sure. But if you’re sick, why don’t you take a break and get some rest, Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “I’m working! Besides, this camera is going to be the best camera you’ve ever-”

“You mean that camera that I distinctly told you  _ not  _ to make?” Peter interrupted, fixing Tony with a disbelieving look. “Mr. Stark!” he whined, and wow, unappreciative much? Teenagers were annoying.

“What?” Tony asked incredulously.

Peter simply rolled his eyes. “I told you you didn’t need to do that. I told you  _ not  _ to do that. Do you even listen?”

“I have been told many times that I don’t, actually,” Tony said dryly, rubbing his head.

“Good, it’s true,” Peter retorted, crossing his arms, but his gaze still fell to the camera, clearly interested. Tony rolled his eyes and pushed it over, and Peter glanced between him and the camera for a minute before reluctantly taking it and looking at Tony’s progress. 

They were silent for a while, as Tony tried to ignore the pounding in his head and the feeling of mucus lining his throat and Peter remained fixated on the camera. Peter turned the camera in his hands several times, holding it close to his face more than once. Tony simply watched, raising his eyebrows as Peter appeared fascinated with the camera he supposedly didn’t want.

Finally, Peter set the camera down, and they were still quiet for a while until Tony began sneezing again. First a set of four, then a set of three. A few coughs as he tried to clear his throat, and then a set of a whopping  _ nine  _ sneezes. His head felt like the fight with Ultron was happening inside his skull. Colds were  _ really _ annoying.

When Tony finally looked back at Peter, he found the boy glaring at him. “What?” he asked, exasperated.

But the boy only stood up. “Come on, you’re going to get some sleep.” When Tony didn’t reply, Peter’s glare worsened.  _ “Up.” _

“I do not need to do what you ask,” Tony objected. “You’re like, fifteen!”

“I know you know I’m sixteen now, you’re the one who threw the ridiculously big party. And that’s not the point, Mr. Stark, you need sleep. Come on.” He came around the workstation and began tugging on the billionaire’s arm, and Tony had to admit, this was one of the weirder things to happen to him. But he remained firmly placed in his seat, even gripping the underneath of the stool to avoid getting tugged. He may be sick but he was still stronger than a sixteen-year-old, even if he did have spider powers.

“Stop it. Stop- Underoos, stop-” His hand slipped and Tony stumbled off the stool, and Peter continued to drag him towards the door. “Peter, I do sort of have some homemade soup on the way, so if you wouldn’t mind letting me  _ go-” _

“Fine,” Peter snapped, but he didn’t let Tony go. Instead, he dragged Tony to the couch in the corner of the workshop and shoved him, making Tony fall onto the cushions. Tony glared at him as he grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out on top of Tony. Ugh. Spiderlings were annoying. 

“I do  _ not _ need coddling-”

“Coddling?” Peter demanded, shoving a pillow underneath Tony’s head before plopping down near Tony’s feet. “This is not coddling. Coddling is Aunt May giving me seven blankets and three pillows. Coddling is Aunt May giving me a thermos of soup to bring to school. Coddling is Aunt May checking my temperature every twenty minutes. This isn’t coddling, Mr. Stark. This is me pulling your head out of your ass and making sure  _ someone _ takes care of you.”

Tony blinked at him, tugging down the blanket. Ignoring the warm feeling in his chest (because he honestly didn’t realize the kid cared about him this much), he tilted his head. “You know, I wouldn’t mind being coddled by your Aunt May.”

Peter’s lip curled and his nose scrunched up. “Ew!” he exclaimed, and he picked up the remaining pillow near him and chucked it. It hit Tony’s face, falling to the floor, and the billionaire had to giggle. 

This made Peter smirk, and he pulled his legs up to cross them. “FRIDAY, could you put something on? Like HGTV or something?”

“Sure thing, Underoos,” the AI replied, bringing up the screen and playing  _ Tiny House Hunters. _ Peter rolled his eyes, looking over at Tony. “Did you really reprogram her to make her start calling me that?”

Tony simply copied Peter’s earlier smirk, and the kid groaned, sliding down in his seat so his butt was nearly hanging off the couch. Tony rolled his eyes when the kid didn’t move. 

He let himself close his eyes, the show becoming white noise. He tugged the blanket around him and sniffled. He turned his head to sneeze before pressing his face into the pillow. He felt Peter move and he peeked an eye open, seeing the teenager tucking his legs underneath himself, resting his head against the armrest. Tony cracked a small smile before shutting his eyes again. Colds were annoying, but he supposed they weren’t  _ too  _ awful.


End file.
